


That's What Family is For

by GraySonOfGotham



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Brothers, Crack Treated Seriously, Eating Peanut Butter Together, Gen, I swear it's not weird, Mindless Fluff, Peanut Butter, Sibling Bonding, Sibling Rivalry, Stealing Food
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-11-13 04:11:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18024440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GraySonOfGotham/pseuds/GraySonOfGotham
Summary: Siblings are obligated as siblings to steal your food.All of your food.





	That's What Family is For

“Drake… that is disgusting and extremely unrefined.”

Tim slowly pulled the spoon out of his mouth, trying his best to get all the peanut butter off the spoon. He broke the chunk of peanut butter apart with his tongue, savoring the taste for a few seconds, before swallowing it.

Then, he stuck his spoon into the jar of jelly.

“You don’t get to judge me,” he said, smacking his lips. He nodded at Damian’s excessive array of fruits and vegetables and the equally large jar of peanut butter in his hands. “You’re never going to make it through that whole jar if you eat it like that.”

Damian bit into his apple slice viciously. “Watch and weep,” he snarled.

Tim ate the spoonful of grape jelly, then went right back into the peanut butter jar with the same spoon. “When’s Dick getting back again?” Tim asked, eyeing his half-finished jar of peanut butter.

From across the room, Jason stuck a chunk of peanut butter covered French bread into his mouth. “In about an hour and a half,” he said around his bite of fresh bread and nutty goodness. He reached into the bakery bag to break off another piece and swipe it through his own jar of peanut butter. “What, losing stamina?” he sniggered.

“No,” Tim tossed back with a half-hearted glare. “Just pacing myself.”

“Tt,” Damian said with a turn of his nose and biting a celery stick in half.

The three boys were hiding in the parlor, which is usually locked and reserved for small gatherings, eating their respective jars of peanut butter.

But the thing was, it was not their peanut butter.

Earlier that morning, Tim had gone down for his morning coffee after everyone else had already left the Manor for work or school, and he found an extra-large three jar pack of peanut butter. Assuming that Alfred had restocked, Tim grabbed a jar and proceeded to start eating straight from the jar.

After a while, the peanut butter started making his mouth a bit dry, so he grabbed a mostly new jar of grape jelly and alternated between the sweet and salty.

Not long afterwards, Damian came home from school and caught him in the act.

“Those were Grayson’s,” he said accusingly, nodding at Tim’s jar of peanut butter.

No one touched Dick’s food. Everyone knew that. If you touched Dick’s food, Dick would follow you around for weeks on end, subtly reminding you about how hurt he is that he did not get to eat that food.

So, being the great role model he is, Tim grabbed another jar, opened it up and shoved it at Damian.

“You’re an accomplice now,” he said, tossing the young teen a spoon.

Damian sneered at him, but dug in. Damian could not stand the thick, pungent taste of the peanut butter alone, so he quickly made a huge platter of crackers, cheese, apple slices, celery, carrots, and a whole assortment of other pairings.

They had been eating in the kitchen, knowing fully well that they would not have room for dinner later, when Jason dropped by. He took one look at them and laughed.

“That was Dick’s food, wasn’t it?”

Tim pushed the third jar of peanut butter at Jason. “Suffer with us.”

It did not last for very long because Alfred came back to the Manor from running errands, and so the boys escaped to the parlor to hide their shame and eat.

They knew they had to finish off their respective jars before Dick got back from work at 6PM. Because it was way worse to be caught in the act – the look of betrayal, the trembling lip, the exaggerated, heartbroken “Wh-Why?” – it was not something someone can easily recover from.

As 6 o’clock drew closer, and the sunlight outside the parlor started waning away, Tim had finally reached the bottom of his jar. He groaned, feeling stuffed and a little bit sick.

“I don’t ever want to eat peanut butter again,” he moaned, setting the jar down on the table. He flopped back on the couch and held his stomach.

“Drake,” Damian said stiffly. There was a second’s pause, and Tim pushed himself up to look at the youngest. “I don’t think I can finish this.”

“Aha!” Tim crowed excitedly. “I knew it!”

Damian glared at him. “Come _assist_ me.”

“I’m not eating your peanut butter!” Tim said gleefully. “You brought this upon yourself! See, Jay’s doing fine there.” They looked over at Jason, who had long since run out of bread, and was painfully working his way through the last inch of peanut butter.

Damian held up his jar, which was still a quarter full. They had fifteen minutes before Dick returned.

“If I don’t finish this,” Damian said in a low voice. “You will suffer as well.”

Tim glared at him for a long time. He weighed the pros and cons in his mind. Then, he reluctantly trudged over with his spoon. He snatched the jar from Damian, scooped out a huge spoonful, and shoved it back.

“You finish that,” he said. He sighed and glared at his spoon, which had a huge hunk of peanut butter on it. His stomach turned at that sight. Still, Tim steeled himself and ate it.

Later, at dinner, Jason, Tim, and Damian could barely eat anything. Alfred asked them if they felt sick, to which the boys shook their heads silently.

For dessert, Alfred had peanut butter gelato with chocolate and crushed waffle cone. As they snuck away without touching their gelato and pleading to Alfred (who had immediately figured them out), Dick got up to go to the pantry and find “his favorite topping”.

“Hey!” Dick’s voice said accusingly, making Jason, Tim, and Damian freeze in their tracks, halfway to the stairs. “Where’s my peanut butter?!”

**Author's Note:**

> I have never liked peanut butter, so I don't know why I made this about peanut butter. I feel kind of sick just writing it, so I certainly could not stomach editing it. 
> 
> Here's to more crack nonsense.
> 
> I wish my brother would stop stealing my food ;(


End file.
